


Papa Don't Preach

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Guns, Love, Mafia AU, Murder, Pregnancy, Romance, Sex, Smut, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 07:16:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14015049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: She's the daughter of a Mafia boss, and he's no-one. But they love each other, and that's all they need, right?





	Papa Don't Preach

Messy bed hair and a crooked smile greeted her when she opened her eyes, and she kissed the tip of his nose with her happy expression. “Good morning,” she whispered, and Dean grinned, tugging her naked body against his, seizing a deep, heated kiss from her lips. Y/N moaned, squirming away from his touch, earning herself a protest as she slipped from the warm bed.

“Stay…” he begged, letting his arm hit the blankets as he watched her stand, gloriously nude and outlined in sunlight.

“I can’t. Mama is picking me up at ten,” she said, giving him a fond look as she picked up the long dress she’d been wearing the day before. “I promise, I’ll be waiting for you tonight,” she soothed, reaching over to take his fingers. Dean smiled, and tugged her sharply back down into the bed. “Dean!” she squeaked, giggling as he held her close against his body.

“Stay with me always,” Dean whispered, cradling her face and kissing her softly. “We’ll go to Vincent, we’ll tell him -”

“No,” Y/N interrupted, sharply, untangling herself from his arms and getting to her feet, pulling her dress over her head, concealing her skin from his sight. “Dean, we’ve talked about this. I love you. But my father… he won’t accept you.”

Dean scoffed, sitting up, the sheets bunching around his waist. “I’ve worked for him since I was a kid, Y/N. He loves me. He trusts me.”

“You’re an associate. A friend. You’re not  _ Mafia _ , Dean, and he won’t be able to look past that like I do.” Her shoulders sagged, and she kneeled on the bed, leaning over to take his hand. “I promise, I am yours. As long as I live, my heart belongs to you.”

His bottom lip was full as Y/N kissed him, before pulling away. “Y/N -”

“My apartment. Tonight,” she ordered, cutting him off.

“Tonight,” he agreed, trying to put it out of his mind.

*****

Her breasts were pressed against the cool surface of the bathroom door as Dean rocked his hips into her, pinning her with his entire body. His cock filled her over and over, and she panted, whining his name against the wood.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing her shoulder, slowing his pace. “Will you marry me?”

“Fuck, Dean…” she gasped, nodding. “Yes, yes, I’ll marry you.”

Dean smiled, pulling away and turning her around, before lowering them both to the bathroom floor. She whimpered when he slid inside her again, circling his hips to press deeper into her soaked pussy. Words were taken up by heated kisses and whispered promises, until she cried out and dragging him over the edge with her.

The door burst open, interrupting their moment of afterglow, and Dean immediately shielded her body with his own, practically growling at the intruder. A gun was pointed at his face by a large stocky man, Y/N immediately recognized as her father’s right hand man, Roberto.

“What the fuck?” Dean snapped, keeping himself between the door and Y/N.

“Get up,” Roberto ordered, jerking the gun. Behind him, a shadow filled the doorway, and Y/N’s father, Vincent, glared down at her, making her shrink behind her lover. “Up,” Roberto repeated, and Dean obeyed, raising his hands as he got to his feet.

Y/N swallowed as her father stared at her with disdain, before he flicked his hand. “Put some clothes on, whore,” he spat, and tears started to fall from her eyes when he turned away.

She curled up, as Roberto picked up Dean’s pants and threw them at him. Dean shoved them on, grunting as the larger man pressed the muzzle of the gun against the base of his skull. “Move,” he snarled, and led Dean out of the room.

Y/N grabbed her dress, pulling it on frantically, before chasing them out into the hallway. “Papa!”

Vincent turned towards her, anger and hatred on his face, one hand raised in an accusatory gesture. “I gave you everything. Everything. A home, a respectable job, and I never,  _ ever _ pressured you to marry. And then I find out you are consorting with this… this…  _ schifoso _ !”

“Papa!” she sobbed, reaching for him, only to meet the back of his hand across her face, and she hit the floor on her knees, clutching her cheek. Dean surged forward, and the butt of Roberto’s gun slammed into his temple, dazing him.

“Silence,  _ puttana _ !” her father seethed, standing over her. “You have dishonored me. You have dishonored yourself.”

“Papa,” she repeated. “Please. I love him.”

The old man stood straight and his nostrils flared in indignation. “He is  _ immondo _ . Unworthy. And you lie with him?”

“Why does it matter?” she pleaded. “He’s brave, and strong, and loyal. He has never strayed from your service, Papa! And he  _ loves _ me. He protects me.”

Vincent sneered, looking over at Dean with a disparaging glare. “He is beneath you.”

“I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” Y/N stated, her voice shaking as she got to her feet, unsteady in her balance. “I’m a woman, Papa, I’m not your little girl.” He blinked at her defiance, before his face twisted into a snarl.

“You are my daughter! You are my property!” He looked over at Roberto, nodding his head. The bodyguard cocked the pistol in his hands, and Y/N screamed as Dean squeezed his eyes shut.

“Papa, no, I’m pregnant!” Silence accompanied the widening of the Mafia boss’ eyes, and Dean’s gaze fell on Y/N, who wrung her hands in front of her body. “I’m pregnant. And I’m going to marry him,” she announced, defiantly raising her chin. “I love you, Papa, and I love Mama, but I cannot stand by and watch you murder the father of my child.”

Roberto’s hand was still holding the loaded and armed pistol at Dean’s head. Vincent regarded her coolly, and she stared back with a plaintive expression, begging God to spare her this heartache, and grant her the loving father she remembered as a child.

Dean took advantage of the stalemate, spinning to knock the gun from Roberto’s grasp. It fired, and Y/N shrieked, dropping to the floor as her father drew his own pistol, aiming it towards Dean. She looked up and saw him about to shoot the younger man, and instinct propelled her forward to knock him off balance.

A bullet pierced the flesh of her arm, and she screamed, distracting Roberto. Dean’s fingers closed around the gun, and he fired at the larger man, hitting him in the side of the neck. Blood spurted through his fingers as he grasped the wound, dropping to his knees and slumping forward. His body made a thud as it hit the carpet, blood spilling out into a thick, sloppy puddle.

Dean aimed the gun at Vincent, and Y/N screamed, just as he pulled the trigger. Both of them tumbled onto the floor and went still, and Dean sucked in a breath, unsure if the older man had blocked the bullet.

Or if he’d just killed the woman he loved.

“Y/N,” he gasped, scurrying forward, just as Vincent’s body heaved and rolled off of her, and Y/N sat up, sobbing and retching for breath. Her father lay on his back in a crumpled heap, blood trickling from the hole directly over his heart. “I thought I killed you,” Dean cried, pulling her into his arms, kissing her forehead.

“I’m okay,” she whimpered, curling into him. “I think, I think I got grazed…” 

Dean pulled back, looking down at the wound on her arm. It was superficial, looked worse than it was, and he nodded. “Okay, we’ll get that looked at. But right now, we need to go.”

“Go?” Y/N asked, confused.

“We just killed Vincent and Roberto. We just killed the head of the Mafia,” Dean explained slowly. “We need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Anywhere. Miles from here.” He paused, thinking for a second. “California,” he murmured. “We go to California. Stanford. Palo Alto. Sammy’s there.”

Y/N shook her head, staring at him in disbelief. “But what about Mama? She’ll understand. It was self-defense.”

“Sweetheart, we just opened up a big hole in the network around here and  _ everyone _ is going to be fighting for it. We cannot stay here.” He stood up, moving into the bedroom and grabbing one of her suitcases, starting to throw things into it. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I can’t leave my mother, Dean,” Y/N insisted, and he paused, sighing as he held one of her favorite sweaters in his hands. “If you have to go, then go. I’ll tell them what happened.” His face was a mask of pain, and he turned to her, marching forward to grab her by the arm. “Dean -”

“I’m not leaving you,” he stated, staring in her eyes. “I could never leave you.”

A door slammed somewhere in the hall, and Y/N’s expression turned to panic. “Someone’s outside.”

“We need to go!” Dean ordered, just as the apartment door creaked open, and the muzzle of a gun pushed through the gap. He grabbed Y/N and pulled her backwards, pulling the bedroom door too so he could see who it was. 

The man was wearing a suit, and there was a badge on his lapel. Dean couldn’t quite see his face, but something about his movements were familiar, and he narrowed his eyes when the man turned. Agent Lafitte.

Dean pushed the door open, and Benny swung the gun round, pausing just before he pulled the trigger. His shoulders sagged, and the federal agent sighed, patting his chest. “Fuck, Dean… we heard gunshots from down the hall and -”

“It’s okay, man. We just got a little… busted,” Dean replied, and Y/N froze, staring at the newcomer. “Y/N?” Dean asked, and she jerked out of his hold.

“You’re… you’re…”

“It’s not like that -” He rushed to assure her, as Benny held a hand out. “Benny is a friend, and yeah, I used to be CIA, but -”

Her head was moving from side to side in disbelief, and she kept out of his reach. “You’re working with him?”

“I did it for you,” Dean insisted, but it fell on deaf ears. Reaching into the open closet, she pulled out the 9mm her father had given her for protection, aiming it at Benny, who instantly put his hands up. “Sweetheart, put the gun down. Benny isn’t going to hurt you. We can go get your mom, okay? We’ll be placed in witness protection.”

“You killed my father,” she whispered, tears leaving lines on her cheeks.

“He was going to kill you!”

“You don’t know that!” Y/N screamed, her hands shaking as she held the gun on Benny. “I could have reasoned with him. I could have stopped him!” Footsteps rampaged up the stairs, the sound echoing through the corridor and into the apartment, and Y/N was sobbing heavily now. “I could have stopped him!”

An armed officer burst through the door. The first thing he saw was a gun, aimed at Agent Lafitte, and he cocked his weapon, aiming for Y/N. “Put the gun down!”

Shock made Y/N turn the gun to him.

The officer fired.

Dean roared, lurching forward as the bullet pierced Y/N’s chest and burst out the other side of her ribcage, hitting the closet door. She gasped, the gun falling from her grasp as she looked down at the hole in her dress, where blood was starting to well up and stain the fabric.

His arms shook with the impact of her body as he caught her, screaming her name. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth as it filled her airways, and Dean called her name, shaking her. Benny turned, ordering the officers out.

“Dean -”

Her eyes were staring, and Dean was clutching her so tightly, blood was staining his bare skin.

“Dean -” Benny whispered, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “She’s gone.” 

Two years and his whole future faded to nothing in his arms, and Dean looked at the gun still caught on her fingers. He reached forward, picking it up, and Benny’s eyes went wide.

“De -”

A muzzle flash lit up the room.

Dean didn’t feel a thing anymore.


End file.
